Last night, I got the suitcase (the black rolling box that Melvin loves so much) out. After carrying it upstairs then going back down and sitting on the couch, Melvin did what he always does once he sees it: He climbed on top of me. I suppose to keep me from going.
While he had me pinned, I told him about Lennox. I explained the sadness and senselessness of it all. Then I did what I’m guessing a lot of us did last night, I hugged my dog. The type of hug that expresses how very grateful I am to be able to do so.
I think we all hugged our dogs a little more last night. An absolutely senseless killing.
My poor boys did not much appreciate my strangle hold on them last night, but they didn’t have much choice in the matter. The phrase “from my cold.dead hands” kept running through my head, along with rage and sadness. I’m still weepy over it!
Melvin tried to wiggle free but I kept yelling ‘don’t break my heart even more Melvin’! Thankfully our dogs tolerate our ‘crazy’.
So many things wrong with that whole sad story.